The Language of Flowers
by Yukari Saiga
Summary: "Do you know the language of flowers?" he asked. I shook my head.


I woke up in a meadow of flowers. To be exact, it was a meadow of daffodils, with vibrant colours such as red, yellow and orange. I could not recall how I ended up sprawled on my back in this meadow. Unnerved and completely disorientated, I quickly stood up and looked all around me, searching for some sign or hint that could help me figure out where I was. The meadow was in a clearing deep within a forest, with nothing but ancient-looking trees growing around it.

For a brief second, panic nearly overtook my senses for the situation seemed hopeless. However, I took a few deep breaths and managed to calm myself down. I analysed the situation. I have just waked up in a meadow of daffodils, with no recollection of how I got here. The last thing I remembered was waking up in a hospital. Something in my mind clicked. That was it! This is just a dream, concocted from my feverish mind. I felt relieved at the thought. Nevertheless, something still nagged at the back of my mind, telling me something was terribly wrong. I ignored the sinking feeling in my gut, thinking it was caused by my insecurity.

Suddenly, I heard an odd scraping and creaking sound. I whirled around and stared. Right before my eyes, some of the trees were shifting and writhing to form what seemed to be a pathway. I decided to follow the pathway and see where it led me to. As I walked along the pathway, I noticed in alarm that the trees closed in behind me, preventing me from turning back. I tried to calm my racing heart. Time did not seem to exist in this dreamscape. I lost track of how long I have been walking down this pathway, but I knew it must have been at least a few hours. Yet, nothing has changed. The scenery was the same everywhere I looked. All I saw were ancient trees, soaring up to the skies, so high that I could barely see the sky itself.

Just when I came close to despair, the pathway finally opened up into sunlight. I was overjoyed and raced out of the forest. At the last second, I caught myself and grinded to a halt, just inches away from certain death from falling into bottomless chasm. I gulped in fear, thinking how close I was to dying. I may be in a dream, but I was starting to have my doubts because it all felt too real. There were two rope bridges leading to the other side, one on my left and one on my right. At the foot of each bridge lay a flower. The bridge on my left had a pink snapdragon while the one on my right had a white chrysanthemum. I frowned. Which bridge should I choose? My mind was telling me to go left but something within me was telling me to go right. In the end, I trusted my instincts that told me to cross the bridge on the right. Halfway across the bridge, I stared as the other bridge suddenly collapsed, falling into the deep chasm. I sighed in relief. I was right to trust my instincts.

Safely across the bridge, I spotted a small cottage surrounded by a garden of flowers. I could not identify most of the flowers, but combined together, they produced a cloying scent that clouded my mind. Struggling to think straight, I made my way to the cottage door and knocked. It unlocked and opened to reveal a very small room, containing two armchairs and a small table with a tea set placed on top of it. Sitting in one of the armchairs was a cloaked figure with the build of a man. The figure motioned me to sit on the unoccupied armchair. I was suspicious of him but did as I was told. I tried hard to see the face hidden beneath the shadows of the cloaks hood but failed. He seemed to notice my inspection and gave a low chuckle.

"Do you know the language of flowers?" he asked. I shook my head. According to him, the meadow of daffodils symbolised uncertainty, which was what I felt when I woke up. Whereas, the pink snapdragon and white chrysanthemum represented deception and truth respectively. The gravity of the situation was starting to dawn on me. My survival here depended on my knowledge of the language of flowers! The man noticed that I have finally caught up with the situation. I then proceeded to ask him how to get out of this dream, in which he responded with another chuckle. In a voice full of mirth, he explained to me that this was not a dream and I was in fact in an alternate reality conjured up by my mind. However, if I died here, I would also die in reality. My heart sank. I could not believe this was happening to me.

"If you wish to return to reality, bring me three different flowers from the garden outside. I will then brew a tea out of these three flowers that you must drink. Choose wisely, for the wrong choice will prove fatal," he said. He gestured towards the open doorway. I stepped out to survey the garden. Again, the cloying scent assaulted my senses, causing me to feel drowsy. I desperately tried to figure out which flowers I should choose. After pondering, in the end I picked out some daisies, moonflowers and snowdrops. I brought them back to the cloaked man and waited for him to brew the tea, hoping that I have chosen the correct flowers. He muttered softly to himself.

"Daisies for faith, moonflowers for joy and snowdrops for hope. You have chosen well," the cloaked figure said as he passed the tea to me. I took a few sips before the teacup slipped from my fingers. The last thing I remembered was the sound of porcelain shattering before my vision turned black.

My eyes snapped open. It looked like I was in a hospital ward, with a saline drip connected to my veins and the sterile smell of hospitals hanging in the air. I saw my mother exclaim in surprise with tears of joy flowing down her cheeks and gave her a weak smile. She said that I have been in a state of coma for two years due to a traffic accident and that the doctors have said that my chances of regaining consciousness were slim. She left the ward to find a doctor to check on my condition. Left alone, I remembered the somewhat realistic dream I had. I turned on my side and gasped in shock. Lying next to my pillow was an innocent looking white poppy. I slowly watched as a slight draft blew the poppy out through the window by my bed. White poppies, the symbol of eternal sleep. My lips curled into a smile. I look forward to resuming the life that I abandoned and heading towards the distant future.

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**My English teacher asked us to write an essay with the one word prompt "Flowers". After many days of procrastination, I managed to come up with this. I'm posting this on because my friends TsukinoKakera and xxxHellStrifexxx did too ^^ I would appreciate your reviews but I have a question, is this story actually APPROPRIATE for the title I've been given? _ But I did have fun writing this and researching the language of flowers teeheee~ The scary thing is... I feel like I could continue and actually make this story into a full blown novel or something (a novel that no one would probably read, but still...). Anyway, thanks for reading! =)**


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